compassionate

 I am free. I am not entangled with what I'd just written. It is simply a part of me I wanted to express. Maybe a part that is dying or healing. I feel fear and I give myself compassion. I write at this late hour knowing my mistake. Knowing compassion will be even harder tomorrow. But I will find a way to rest. I'll find a way to alleviate this fear. I'll think about her, and I'll feel what she means through her absence. It may be easier said than done but saying it is not nothing, and I know ways to make it reality. I am so tired. I have been awfully unfeeling. But I feel the distinction between comfort and loneliness. Loneliness has been with me a long time, but I'm learning to be with comfort. I must not take her for granted. I'll wake up later than I'd like to. I'd like to find the motivation to make breakfast. I'd like to be motivated enough to make hydration a priority. I'll probably wake up too late to exercise but we'll see. If so, I can accept that for now knowing I'll have plenty of early nights coming up. I will fix my sleep schedule. I will search for jobs and take it easy in the meantime. My growing anxiety and the accompanying thoughts are temporary. Possibly a side-effect of Vyvanse, likely combined with poor sleep, lack of exercise, poor nutrition, and dehydration. Oh, but that can change in a day. Now, I need water. Now, I need sleep. Goodnight.